"What do you mean?" Betty's hand instinctively covered her stomach and she took an involuntary step backward. Blood pounded thunderously in her ears and for a moment, she was afraid she'd faint for the third time in her life.
"Oh no, not like that." Afraid she'd completely misconstrued him, he rushed to reassure her, grasping her gently by the arm. "I'm still me, Scott Sherwood, the man you know and will hopefully still love even after I tell you all this." He waited, watching as the fear in her eyes cleared somewhat. "C'mon, we should sit down. This could take awhile."
Betty sat beside him on the sofa, her body rigid with tension, the rapid beating of her heart only somewhat calmed by Scott's reassurances. He reached over and plucked her left hand out of her lap, grasping it warmly.
"Betty, when I told you the story about how I came to work at WENN, it was a lie," he began carefully.
She looked at him, puzzled, then shifted her position to face him more directly. "I know. You told me all about it when Pruitt fired you."
Scott grimaced. "Actually, that was a lie, or, at least, it wasn't the whole truth. I only told it because I wasn't allowed to say why I was really there."
"Not allowed by who? Why couldn't you tell me?" Betty felt dizzy from the multitude of questions swirling in her mind.
"The military. I had to lie to protect you." He spread his hands helplessly.
"Protect me from what?" She sighed impatiently. "Maybe you should start from the beginning, otherwise we won't get anywhere."
Scott smiled sadly. That was his Betty. Always getting straight to the point. He only hoped she could forgive him for all the lies he'd told her.
"It all started back when I was in London a couple of years ago. I was an out-of-work promoter. At least that much of the story I told you was true," he said apologetically. "I was heading back to my hotel late one night after spending the evening in a local pub when a car pulled up alongside me and two men jumped out. My reflexes weren't up to what they usually would be," he admitted ruefully, "so they didn't have too much trouble getting me into the car. They took me to a flat-I don't even know where it was-and introduced me to General Hopkins. Of course, they didn't tell me who they were at the time."
"What did they want?" Betty asked intently, already drawn in to the story.
"To make a deal," he answered simply. "They would overlook certain of my more questionable activities in the recent past if I would do a little work for them."
"What kind of work?"
Scott took a deep breath. "Spying. They told me the main purpose of their organization was to ferret out Nazi sympathizers and saboteurs in Allied countries. They were 'recruiting' people with my skills to be agents for them. They'd already investigated my background. They knew about the code breaking I'd done and some of my other abilities and they thought I was the perfect man for the job. Then they told me about an American businessman who they'd long suspected of having Nazi sympathies. He was involved in a lot of international business deals and they were afraid that he was dealing in information as well."
"Rollie Pruitt," Betty breathed in sudden enlightenment.
Scott nodded. "Right. They were suspicious of him for a long time, but he was crafty and they'd never been able to get any concrete evidence against him. So they were starting a new operation, placing their own people in several of Pruitt's business ventures in strategic positions that would be well placed to hear information. They told me about a little radio station in Pittsburgh called WENN that they were particularly concerned about."
"Why would they be concerned about WENN? None of us had even met Rollie Pruitt at that point," Betty argued.
"That's true, but a radio station's business is dispensing information. They were afraid coded messages could be going out over the airwaves with none of the cast or crew being aware of it. I was a code breaker, and therefore the ideal candidate for the job. Fortunately, Victor was already over here in London and the station was short a manager. Their idea was for me to take over that position and monitor the broadcasts, hopefully even make contact with Pruitt at some point."
"But the book of limericks...you met Victor at some point," Betty wondered aloud.
"That was all part of the plan. After I'd agreed to help them, not that I really had a choice, making some form of contact with Victor was the first step. He wasn't aware of any of this and Section N didn't believe he was in close contact with anyone at WENN. They understood that with him out of the country, he couldn't be involved with the day to day running of the station, so I could probably take over that job, virtually unnoticed, for at least a few months. But just in case my name was ever mentioned in letters from the cast or crew, I had to make some kind of surface contact with him, and hopefully get from him some means of legitimately showing up at WENN," Scott explained.
"So you 'accidentally' met him at the pub and he just happened to have a book of limericks for Mr. Eldridge," Betty surmised.
He smiled at her quick understanding. "Right. And it wasn't too long after that that Section N put me on a plane for the States. After a little training on spying techniques and the more technical aspects of radio, of course."
"That's why you seemed to know a little more about radio at times than you'd usually let on," she realized.
"Part of the reason I did that was because I wanted to tell you the truth so badly, but I just couldn't take the chance. I guess I was hoping you'd somehow figure it out your own."
Betty paused for a moment, letting everything Scott told her sink in. "So you were working for them all that time. But what about Kurt Holstrom and the Amazon Andy decoder rings? Was that part of your operation, too?"
"I didn't think so at first. After he was arrested, Section N did a little investigating into his background and his company. Guess who was a silent partner on the board of directors and originally helped bankroll Holstrom's business?"
It took her only a split second to see the connection. "Rollie Pruitt."
"Yeah," Scott said darkly. "But there still wasn't enough evidence to pin on Pruitt, just enough for Holstrom."
"Pruitt fired you. You must have been making him nervous somehow."
"Pruitt wasn't worried about a thing until I broke that code. Then he was concerned about filtering any future information through WENN. He had to get rid of me and I gave him the perfect opportunity to do that," Scott said regretfully. "I don't think Section N will ever let me forget that one."
"Embezzling the funds to build a memorial for Victor," Betty said under her breath with a nod. Her eyes suddenly lifted to his. "Why did you do that? Why would you risk everything to build a memorial for a man you'd only known for a few hours?"
Scott sighed heavily and his brow knit in a frown. "For a lot of reasons," he began softly, then broke off and ran a hand through his hair. "Guilt can be a powerful motivator, Betty, and I had plenty of it. Here I was, basically taking over Victor's life and enjoying it: his friends, his work, even his girl." He met her eyes again. "While I was lying my way into all of your lives, he was dying a hero's death in London. I admired him and I wanted to make up for what I did to him and all the people at WENN that I cared about. I couldn't tell the truth, so I did the only thing I could think of that made sense."
"And gave Pruitt an airtight excuse for getting rid of you," Betty observed.
"Yeah," Scott smiled ruefully. "After that, Section N didn't want me to go back. They didn't trust me and thought I would be a liability at WENN. It took me a while to convince them that with Pruitt acting as station manager, I'd be in an even better position to observe him."
"Why did you come back after that? Section N might have simply let you go if they didn't trust you."
He shook his head and looked earnestly into her eyes. "I couldn't do that, Betty. How could I leave everyone at WENN with a man that I knew was dangerous? You all felt like a family to me. I had to protect you somehow. The only way I could do that was to get back into the station full time. Even after I did that, I didn't get the pieces put together in time to completely stop that showdown in the green room. Cracking that code finally gave me the evidence I needed, but I was almost too late."
They were both silent for a few moments, each recalling the terrifying last moments of Rollie Pruitt's reign at WENN. Betty suddenly stirred.
"You stayed. Even after Pruitt was arrested and there were no more Nazi codes being transmitted. Why?"
He looked at her in disbelief. "Isn't that obvious, Betty?" A smile stole across his face. "I told you why when Victor pointed that gun at me in the green room. I've loved you since the first moment I walked into the control room and you tried to fire me before I could even start work. It's why I told you the story I did when Pruitt fired me. Even the small amount that I told you was highly classified. I just couldn't stand the thought that you might feel bad about yourself because of a lie I told you. And then I spent the two worst weeks of my life trying to find a way back into yours."
"And all that time I was punishing you, you didn't really deserve it. You were really just doing your job for the military."
"Well, I wouldn't go that far. I did embezzle funds from the sponsor. The military definitely didn't approve of that and I deserved to be punished for bringing you in on it. Maybe not for as long as you punished me," he allowed with a sly smile, "but I figure you can make it up to me."
Betty found herself smiling back at him. "And how would I do that?"
"By spending the next forty or fifty years with me," he leaned in to kiss her. "Can you forgive me for not telling you any of this sooner? There were so many times I wanted to tell you, so many times I started to, but I just couldn't take the risk that you'd get hurt."
"Of course," her hand raised to caress his cheek and he covered it with his own. "I understand that you couldn't tell me. However, that doesn't explain why Hopkins was here tonight. Why is he recruiting you again when you haven't been working for him since Pruitt was arrested?"
Scott cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, actually..."
"Scott Sherwood, what aren't you telling me?" Betty demanded.
"Hopkins contacted me right after Pearl Harbor. The work I did for them earlier was the reason I got commissioned right out of civilian life. When I went to Fort Mead, it was part basic training, but also part briefing for a mission on which they needed me. That's why I almost broke our engagement." He winced slightly at the admission. "They were sending me into France for a week and the chance that I wouldn't come back was a little too good."
"You were in France? That's when you got shot, wasn't it?" Betty guessed.
"Yes. I hoped that would be the end of my involvement with Section N, that they'd transfer me somewhere else, but I guess that was too much to hope for," he sighed raggedly. "Now they're trying to involve you, too. They're so desperate for agents they figure their hold on me can be extended to you. There's no reason why they should be able to, though. I'll complete whatever mission they want, but you're going back to Pittsburgh."
"Wait a minute, Scott." Betty shook her head, distracted by an idea that had taken an unshakable hold on her mind. "Maybe this is why I was having those dreams, having that feeling that I could save you somehow. Maybe I'm here so I can help you with this mission."
The protest Scott was about to make died on his lips when his eyes met hers. The conviction burning brightly there was difficult to deny. "Betty, I don't know what Hopkins has in mind for us. It could be dangerous."
"But not too dangerous. He said they didn't want first time agents to get in over their heads. They wouldn't give me too much to do because they'd be testing me out. I know I can handle whatever they ask of me." She spoke with unwavering certainty, her eyes locked on his.
Scott looked at her for a long moment, weighing the possibilities. He knew Section N was looking to team him up with a partner, someone to send with him on an undercover operation. He'd been hoping ever since he'd heard that a week ago that it would prove false and that his request to be transferred to a regular military division would be honored. His anxiety increased when he'd learned shortly thereafter that General Hopkins knew Betty was in London. Hopkins liked to keep track of his agents and he'd gotten a full accounting of events at WENN ever since Scott had arrived there. Therefore, he knew of Betty's involvement in bringing down Holstrom and Pruitt, though Scott had tried to keep her name out of his reports as much as possible. His attempt to shield her from involvement with Section N clearly hadn't worked, though. Hopkins was desperately in need of agents and he saw Betty's presence here as a convenient way to recruit another fresh operative.
It wasn't an entirely bad plan, Scott admitted grudgingly. Who would suspect a pregnant woman of being a spy? He also realized that if Betty didn't go with him, they'd assign someone else. The thought almost made him cringe. He wouldn't be able to trust whoever that was like he did Betty. Plus, there was the added advantage of having her near him where he could keep an eye on her. He wasn't about to leave her alone in London while he went to the continent. Taking her with him was definitely the lesser of two evils.
"All right," he slowly nodded his assent. "I'll tell Hopkins we'll do it."
Far From Pittsburgh
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